


No Going Back

by Mystic_Whim



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:52:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13370031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Whim/pseuds/Mystic_Whim
Summary: Starsky and Hutch go undercover to investigate a dangerous pornography ring that may be the source of snuff films in Bay City.  Things take and interesting and unexpected turn when they are asked to participate in one of the porn scenes.





	No Going Back

**_No Going Back_ **

**_by MysticWhim_ **

 

"TWO MEN?!" Frankie yelled into the phone.  "Come on, Alistair!  How the hell do you expect me to pull that off now?  That's not what we agreed on!  You told me two women.  We're all set to begin filming here.  I arranged for a mostly female crew today.  You're telling me NOW that you want men?  There's no way!"

The arguing on the phone continued until Frankie ended up slamming the receiver down in exasperation.  "Damn!"

Stephen came up to him and flipped his pen onto the desk.  "Looks like we're screwed," he observed. 

Hutch watched the transaction and sighed.  He and Starsky had been undercover with this group for two weeks now.  They had been trying to get closer to Frankie and Stephen, in hopes of in turn getting closer to the man calling the shots, Alistair.  Here they had a chance to do both, save Frankie and Stephen, and provide Alistair with his whim of the moment.  Too bad they'd have to be gay to pull it off.

Alistair was a killer.  He was a drug lord, with the funds to buy whatever sick little fantasy appealed to him.  According to Huggy's information, the man was ordering porn films to be made to his specifications, and if he liked what he saw, he would have the action brought to him.  Somehow these porn stars disappeared after catching Alistair's interest.  The word on the streets was that he was into snuff, and had his own little collection of gruesome films for his private pleasure.  He would have the actors brought to him, arrange a filming at his home, and film them being murdered by strangulation in the act of sex.  The bodies were left in dumpsters across the west side of town, discarded as trash.

Starsky and Hutch had seen several of these little films being made for Alistair's demands.  So far none had earned the man's grisly favor.  The man had more than one production company supplying him with film, however, and they did not have the resources to put cops undercover at each of them.   They had been lucky to get in themselves.  Not only was Alistair smart and careful, but there were few people involved in these films as possible.  Had it not been for a conveniently arranged drug bust that threw his lighting specialist and sound man into jail, Starsky and Hutch would not have been able to get in.  If they didn't find something to turn into Dobey soon, the last two weeks would have been for naught.

"You!  Stanton!" Frankie yelled to Starsky, using his undercover name.  He walked up to Starsky and stated, "You said you needed cash.  I'll pay you double what you were making tonight if you'll work this film."

Hutch nearly laughed out loud.  He controlled his smile, but his partner could see the twinkle in his eye from across the room.

"Me?" Starsky squeaked.  "I'm straight!  Frankie, I couldn't..."

Frankie tried again.  "Look Stanton, I'm screwed here.  I paid for a crew to film.  I rented this studio.  I lose out on a hell of a lot of cash if I can't get paid by Alistair.  I don't hand him a film, I don't get paid.  I already paid upfront for the new equipment I ordered.  I can't go bust tonight.  I'll fold.  Either Stephen or I could step in, but we can't both do it, one of us needs to work behind the cameras.  I need at least one more man.  Look, one time with a man is not gonna make you gay, alright?  And you don't have to fuck - a blow job is all I'm asking.  He said he wants something nice and romantic.  It's just acting.  It's a role.  I'm not asking anything I wouldn't do myself.  If it makes you feel better, I'll do it with you.  I'll give you another hundred bucks.  What do you say?"

"That's all you're asking?" Starsky shot back with heavy sarcasm.  He looked down at the floor and shook his head.  Then he turned his head and looked straight at Hutch.

Hutch's amusement fled, replaced by nervousness at what he saw in Starsky's eyes.   _He was debating this!_  

Starsky stood and faced Frankie.  "I could do this Frankie, but now with you.  And not with Stephen.  You talk Hooper into doing this with me and I'll do it."

Frankie's face broke into a wide smile, happy to have his willingness to participate, and happy to be ruled out as a costar.  "Hooper?  You with me?" Frankie asked Hutch.

Hutch continued to stare at Starsky, outraged.  He understood why Starsky had considered something so out of his nature.  They could lose their only chance to get to Alistair.  Not only would it be weeks of work wasted, but that sick bastard would continue to kill innocent people for his kicks. 

He wondered how the hell they would pull this off.  Starsky gave him an apologetic look and shrugged.  Hutch knew Starsky would not hold it against him if he refused.  Dobey would not hold it against him if he refused.  The case would fall apart and Alistair would be free to kill again, and no one would hold it against him for refusing.  No one would hold it against him, but himself.  He looked at his partner and gave him a small smile.  "Double pay plus the hundred bucks.  Cash."  He watched Starsky's face pale, but the man smiled in return. 

"Done!" Frankie cried happily.  "YES!  Okay people, let's get this show on the road!"

Starsky walked up to Hutch and grabbed his arm.  He squeezed.  Hutch glared at him.  "Take this seriously, buddy.  I don't intend to have to do re-takes because you bust up laughing."

"I'm not laughing," Starsky replied.  Then in a quiet voice he soothed, "Hey, it's just me here.  We can do this.  There's nobody here but me and you, and I'm gonna take care of you."  Hutch stared at him, unable to respond.  He seemed to desperately want to believe his words.

Starsky was pulled away to instruct Stephen, who would take his place with lighting.  He made some changes and set it up so that there would be little for Stephen to do.  Hutch was occupied instructing the woman who was filling in at his position.  Far too quickly the time came for them to begin.  Frankie gave them both last minute instructions on how he wanted the scene to go, primarily the mood he wanted to create, mostly leaving the actions up to them.  Soon they were left in the middle of the room while the others took their places. 

Frankie yelled, "ACTION!"

Starsky cupped Hutch's face in his hands and kissed him.  At first the kiss was tentative and gentle, growing more demanding and more intimate as it continued.  Soon, the kissing that began as reluctant had turned into a heated and impassioned expression.  The kiss awakened something in Hutch that he didn't know he felt.  Their tongues met in a evocative dance, stirring an animal hunger deep within, and a devoted yearning he was unable to keep repressed.  Hutch found himself running his hands over Starsky's body, frustrated at the clothing barrier he felt instead of the warm flesh he craved.  He broke from the kiss, his eyes flashing in their intensity, staring at Starsky with piercing eyes.  He placed his hands on Starsky's chest and gave a sharp push, sending him back a step, easily retaining his balance.  Starsky gathered himself up, standing firm in front of Hutch, both men breathing heavily.

Stephen looked to Frankie, questioning the sudden anger that Hutch seemed to be displaying.  Frankie was not committal, continuing to watch the events unfold.

Starsky stood firm before Hutch.  His eyes were showing the same intensity as Hutch's.  Hutch took a threatening step forward and grabbed Starsky by the shirtfront with both hands.  Without breaking eye contact, he gathered the cloth in his fists and with one hard yank tore the shirt open, baring Starsky's chest.

Stephen shook his head.  "I'm putting a stop to this," he muttered as he rose to his feet.  Rough sex was not what they had in mind when they arranged this scene.  However, Frankie reached out an arm and blocked Stephen from following through on his intention.  Stephen looked to him, confused.  Frankie was mesmerized by the action in front of him.  He held up one finger, telling him to give it a moment, and nodded at the two men before the cameras.

Hutch thrust the torn shirt down Starsky's arms, sliding his palms back up his hot skin.  Starsky never lost eye contact with him, never flinched from his aggressiveness.  He straightened his arms downward, allowing the shirt to fall away, hanging from the back of his waistband where it had remained tucked in.  Hutch grabbed the garment and flung it away.  He took another menacing step closer and grabbed Starsky's belt.  Looking down, he roughly unclasped the belt and pulled it free from the denim, stepping back to angrily snap it to the floor like a discarded whip.  Hutch took a step forward and snatched a fistful of Starsky's denim waistband in his left hand, yanking the man forward, hauling him close.   Starsky grabbed Hutch's waist for support.

The two men stood nose to nose, Hutch maintaining his tight grip on the front of Starsky's pants.  With his free right hand, he purposely slid the hand slowly down inside the jeans, wrapping his hand firmly around Starsky's erect penis.  His left hand deftly unsnapped the fastener and whipped the zipper down, releasing the other man from the confines of his jeans.  Hutch stroked Starsky a few times, then gripped the denim with both hands and thrust the pants halfway down Starsky's thighs.  As he returned to his full height, he slapped both hands firmly against Starsky's ass, pulling the man harshly against his own body, lifting him right off the floor.  Starsky's jeans lightly slid down his legs and dropped to the ground.  Hutch covered Starsky's mouth with his own, driven by a consuming lust.  Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch's neck, one hand buried in the soft blonde strands.

As Starsky's feet touched the ground, he stepped back from Hutch.  Not wanting to lose the sensation of Starsky's hard cock pressed against his own erection, Hutch started to reach for the man, to pull him back.  Instead, Starsky broke free of Hutch's arms, lifting his forearms to knock Hutch's arms away from him.  Hutch pulled back, elbows locked and palms forward, his straight arms slightly outstretched from his sides in a gesture of retreat.  Starsky stepped up to him and lay a hand on Hutch's chest.  Hutch closed his eyes and took a deep shaky breath, exhaling slowly as he slowly opened his eyes again.  This time the anger and aggression that had been there a moment before was now gone.  The intensity in Hutch's eyes now showed only passion, and want.  Removing the calming hand, Starsky replaced it with a kiss, pressing his lips to Hutch's chest.  He continued to kiss the exposed skin at the opening of his shirt, as his hands undid the buttons down the rest of the front, his warm lips and hot tongue following their path.

Starsky took his turn undressing his partner, doing so with a painfully slow deliberateness, unwrapping the clothing from his body as if savoring the opening of a gift.  As each inch of flesh was unveiled, it was kissed and tasted.  Hutch let his head fall back, eyes closed, relishing the feel of being so lovingly undressed.  Starsky peeled the shirt away bit by bit, until he was bare to the waist.  Admiring the smooth chest, he stroked his hands slowly along his skin, kissing the nipples that had jumped to attention at his touch. 

He turned his attention to Hutch's pants.  They easily opened and dropped to the floor, pooled at Hutch's feet.  Starsky leisurely slid his underwear down his body, kissing and licking as he progressed, just as with the shirt.  He deliberately denied the hungry cock of the same attentions that the rest of his body had received, only to receive a disapproving growl from Hutch.  Not to be distracted from saving the best for last, Starsky continued his teasing torture. 

When at last he reached Hutch's ankles, he ran a hand up the back of Hutch's calf, and the man lifted his leg to step free from his slacks.  Starsky quickly grabbed the free foot and held it gently in both of his hands.  He looked up to Hutch, then reverently placed a kiss on the held foot. 

The gesture had moved Hutch, who immediately reached down to pull Starsky to his feet.  "Don't," he pleaded, then gently kissed Starsky's lips.  Any anger or aggressiveness that had been present before was now forgotten, as Hutch wrapped his arms around Starsky, gently and tenderly kissing him.   Hutch's heart swelled with love for this man.  He ran his hands along Starsky's skin, feeling the man respond to each touch.   No matter how he touched him, Starsky seemed to take excited pleasure from that touch.

Hutch sank to his knees.  He took Starsky's cock in his hands and caressed it.  One had smoothly cupped his balls, rolling them and stroking them while his mouth claimed his shaft.  Starsky moaned softly.  Hutch ran his tongue along the pulsing vein up to the head, where he tasted the first drops of Starsky's excitement.  Taking the head into his mouth, he took in as much of Starsky as he could, stroking the unattended flesh with his free hand.  Caressing his shaft with his tongue, he sucked Starsky's cock.  Starsky's hands threaded through Hutch's hair, running through the blonde locks as if the fall of the hair against his fingers added to the pleasure he was sensing.  Hutch danced his tongue along the ridge of his glans, circling and darting, then running down the underside.  He could feel the man grow larger, flaring and pulsing, until he came exploding into his mouth.  Hutch drank him down greedily, then gently released him from his mouth.  He wrapped his arms around Starsky's hips, hugging him tightly against his cheek.

Starsky pulled Hutch to his feet, wrapping his arms around him as he kissed him.  He could taste himself in his partner's kiss, and felt a satisfying pleasure in that taste of the two of them combined.  He took Hutch's hand and led him to the bed.  They stopped to kiss beside the bed, then Starsky pushed on Hutch's shoulders, directing him to sit on the bed.  He knelt down before the seated man, between his knees, gazing up into his face.  Their eyes met and locked.  Starsky lowered his head and took Hutch in his mouth as Hutch watched him.  Starsky fondled Hutch's balls as he tongued the head and shaft, his eyes never leaving Hutch's.  He stroked Hutch's perineum with his finger, gliding up and teasing his anus with a circling touch.  Hutch was trembling.  He thought he had never seen anything as exciting as Starsky's mouth upon him, until he watched Starsky lower his mouth, taking Hutch right down his throat.  "Oh God!"  Thrown over the edge by the vision and the sensations, Hutch came.  Starsky pulled back some, letting Hutch come into his mouth, not wanting to miss the taste of his partner's pleasure.  Hutch collapsed back on the bed.  Starsky lay his head gently on Hutch's groin, his hands holding Hutch's sides.  He felt Hutch reach down and stroke his hair with affection, and he closed his eyes.

"CUT!" Frankie called out.

For a while the two men just laid there, oblivious to the movement around them.  No one disturbed them until finally Stephen had to come forward to remind them it was time to leave.  He gently reached down and placed a hand on Starsky's shoulder.  Starsky turned to see his outstretched hand, offering a robe for him to wear.  "I'm sorry to have to interrupt you," the man apologized.  "We have to lock up soon."  Starsky nodded his thanks and stood to pull on the robe.  He took a second robe from him and laid it across Hutch's lap.  Hutch sat up reluctantly.  He had successfully been able to block out the small crew around them and did not want to acknowledge them now.

The two men dressed in silence.  Starsky left his shirt where it lay; the torn garment would be little cover now.  Hutch offered him his own shirt, and Starsky smiled, but shook his head to decline.   Stephen returned carrying a t-shirt.  He tossed it to Starsky with a friendly smile.  "Thanks Steve," he called back to him.

Frankie approached the two men with their pay.  He handed them each an envelope stuffed with cash.  Starsky counted it, then looked to the man bewildered.  "Frankie, there's more here than you said."

Frankie nodded.  "I offered you the bottom of the pay scale because I thought you were new and...um...inexperienced.  I didn't realize you two were...  Well, anyway, that little piece of film is gonna make me a tidy profit so I'm making sure you get paid fairly.  Don't accept less than that again.  I treat my people right, and I want to continue to work with you two.  I won't cheat you."  He clapped Starsky on the shoulder and walked off.

"I need to talk to you.   NOW."

Hutch grabbed Starsky firmly by the arm and led him outside to the parking lot.  Hutch held his hand out for the keys to the Torino.  Surprised, Starsky turned them over without question.  Neither man spoke as they slid into the car, and Hutch tore out of the parking lot at high speed. 

It was obvious that Hutch was shook up.  His eyes were intense, and as deep a blue as Starsky had ever seen them.  He wasn't certain if this was due to their encounter, or if he was furious.  Probably both.  Starsky was shaken as well, but he sat in the passenger seat dazed, as if the events of the evening had not completely registered in his thoughts yet.  Emotionally, he was in shock.  He slid into the corner of the seat, close to the passenger door, and felt himself slouch down.  He looked as though he wished he were invisible.  He wanted to look to Hutch for reassurance, but he was afraid of what he would see, so instead he kept his eyes staring sightless out the windshield, his arms tightly crossed upon his chest.

The tension in the car was heavy on them both.  Hutch glanced over at Starsky, and softened when he saw the way the man hunched into the corner of the seat.  Hutch reached out to give Starsky's thigh a squeeze, and the man gratefully clasped the hand and squeezed back.  Still no words were spoken.

Hutch pulled the car into a nature preserve and found a parking spot in a secluded area.  He turned in the seat to face Starsky, his right arm draped across the back of the seat, his left hand pinching his nose between his eyes.  He still hadn't decided on how he was going to handle this confrontation.  He wasn't even sure what he felt. 

Starsky took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He turned to face Hutch's wrath with reticence, aware that the pending explosion was bound to leave him hurt.  For the first time he realized that Hutch's hands were shaking.  Alarmed, but immensely relieved, he understood that Hutch was as rattled as he was.  At least that put them on equal terms.

Finally, they locked eyes.  Hutch stared at him for several moments before speaking, studying him.  His voice was calm, but powerful.  "I can't help feeling like I've been played here, Starsky."

Starsky sighed and looked away. 

"I'm not casting blame at you.  I'm upset, I'm confused, I'm shocked.  I've got a hundred things going on in my head right now.  I'm just trying to understand what just happened.  One thing I do know is that you volunteered us for this.  I can't help but wonder if you didn't know something going in that I didn't know."

Starsky continued to stare out the window, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"Talk to me, Starsky."

Starsky turned to him with hurt in his eyes.  "I didn't know this would happen."

"What was going on in your head when you volunteered?"  Hutch's tone was slightly less severe.  Slightly.

Hesitantly, Starsky met his intense stare and replied, "I knew I trusted you."

Never doubting Starsky's sincerity for a moment, Hutch relented.  "I trust you too, buddy."

"Hutch, I thought we could do this.  We're friends, we trust each other, we care about each other.  I thought we could do this and pull it off.  I just knew you wouldn't hurt me, and I wouldn't hurt you."

Hutch's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement.

"When Frankie asked if I could do that, I thought I could.  I love you Hutch.  I could do that for you.  I could make you feel good.  I could just take from my friendship and my love for you and give you something that I've never given you before, never given any man before.  I could please you; satisfy you.  And I was secure enough in my masculinity and my sexuality that I wouldn't have to feel threatened by that.  That's what I thought going in."

"I had similar thoughts when I agreed to go along with you."

"I didn't expect things to go like that, Hutch.  I'm just as blown away as you."

Hutch looked down, lost in thought.   After a long silence he announced, "I could feel your love in that first kiss.  I knew you loved me.  Did I misread that?"

"No."

"How long have you been aware you were in love with me?"

"I knew when I kissed you," he answered sadly, looking away again.  Without looking back to Hutch, he asked, "When did you know you were in love with me?"

"The same time," Hutch admitted, disappointed that Starsky couldn't look at him now.  "Starsky, I'm sorry.  I'm not angry with you."

"No, you just believe that I 'played you' or that I set you up because I had all this inside knowledge that you weren't privy too."

"I'm sorry.  I don't mean to be blaming you.  I don't blame you.  I'm having a hard time dealing with this."

Starsky was still seated as far as possible away from Hutch, his arms tightly crossed upon his chest.  He turned and looked at Hutch.  "I'm having a hard time dealing with this, too.  I just had the most incredible sex of my life.  Not only that, but I had the most powerful  _lovemaking_ experience I've ever known.  It blew me out of the water.  It was so great that I'm doubting anything that came before this ever had anything to do with love at all!"

"Starsky..."

"And you think I manipulated you into this.  You could've said no, Hutch.  You could've stopped it at any time.  Nobody was forcing you, Hutchinson, not even me."

"Starsky!"  Hutch's angry voice filled the car.  He lunged at Starsky, enfolding him into his arms.  At first tense, Starsky relented and accepted Hutch's care.  "I'm sorry."  He held tightly until Starsky pulled away.  "Starsky, it's not that I felt forced."

Starsky could see him struggling for words, and silently waited.

Hutch gripped Starsky's arms tightly.  "I felt like you knew something I didn't.  Like you could see inside my soul.  You  ** _pulled_  **something out of me, reached in and took hold of something I didn't know I had, and you tore that from me."  

Starsky's heart was racing.  He looked into Hutch's eyes, eyes that were begging for answers. 

"How did you know, Starsky?  How could you reach into my soul?  And the love you found inside me, you fed off that.  The more you found the more you gave.  You made me want to give you more, give you everything.  How did you do that to me?  And how did you give so much back?  It grew out of control, and I wanted it to!  I needed it!  I've never felt anything like this!  What the hell did you do to me?!"

Starsky gazed at him wide-eyed.  "I made love to you, Hutch."

With that, Hutch took Starsky's face in his hands and kissed him with a starving passion that would not be sated.  They kissed and kissed until Starsky started to giggle.  His amusement was contagious and Hutch started to chuckle too.  They finally broke apart, laughing. 

"Damn, what've we done?"  Hutch laughed, shaking his head.  "There's no going back you know.  I'm not gonna let you."

"I don't wanna go back."  He tried to stop laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes.  Hutch wrapped him in his arms, embracing him, kissing his forehead.  "Geez, Hutch, who'd a thought you'd be so good in bed?"

Hutch laughed again.  "Me?  What about you?  Have you always been like that?  Loved like that?"

Starsky grinned.  "Nah.  You inspire me."  Then he grew quiet.  "When I kissed you the first time, I could feel it.  Felt your love.  It was like I could taste you wanting me.  That was the most exciting thing I ever tasted."

Hutch held him tighter, kissing his curls, resting his chin against the soft hair.  "You're so erotic.  No matter how I touched you, it excited you, even a casual touch."

"That's because it was you."

"I love you, Starsk."

"I know," he grinned.  Hutch gripped him tight, burying his face in his curls.  Starsky looked up at him through his long eyelashes, lifting his face until Hutch finally met his eyes.  "I love you, too."

 

 

_The End_

 


End file.
